A/N: FT doesn't belong to me, nor do I claim it does.

Yaay for GaLe~

Day 1: Silence

She stared ahead, straight at the wall. The man seated before her, just a little to her left, continued speaking, but his words fell on deaf ears.

He stopped after a few minutes and her eyes flicked briefly to him, watching as he watched her, blue eyes narrowed in intense concentration. She looked back at the wall, the pale beige the same as it had been the past three days.

Three days, locked away in this elegant prison. A job gone wrong, some might say.

A work-in-progress, she would argue. A work-in-progress. She would finish the job, she just needed to get it through these idiots' heads and she didn't have what they were looking for.

"Miss McGarden, let's just—"

"Redfox."

"Beg your pardon?" He looked amazed that she spoke, not seemingly interested in what she spoke.

"You're wrong. It's Redfox." Caramel eyes flicked to him once more, her expression blank, verging on boredom, but eyes fierce.

The man tilted his head, apparently not understanding. She turned this time, facing the window and looking out at the manicured lawns of the manor she was held captive in. Some rich recluse built it, not wanting neighbors. Bought all the land around, a forest, and cleared some right in the center so he'd be totally alone—save, of-course, the ever faithful staff.

This man was one such staff. The only one she'd seen, but she'd heard others. Knew there were others. She knew they were looking for something, information, knowledge (her specialty) but they couldn't read it.

It was her favorite kind of job. 'Needed: Someone with extensive knowledge in history and ancient languages. In possession of a book that needs translated. 28,000 Jewel Reward'

She thought she could do it alone—she could do it alone, but she wasn't expecting the Dark Guild. It said she would meet at the client's house and she had teased Jet and Droy for wanting to come on such a small time job, teased them enough that they were pouting and blushing before finally conceding to that joint-mission she suggested (demanded) Gajeel to take. He didn't want to, but their mortgage wasn't going to pay itself and she was still trying to push her three favorite guys together to bond.

So. Here she was. Locked in a room, a Magic Restraint band around her wrist. It wasn't a collar, thank Mavis, but she was limited all the same. Not the same scale, but enough.

"Miss McGarden—"

"Redfox." Goddamnit, she was proud of her name and she was not going to let them forget it.

She almost saw the lightbulb go off, heard his gasp. "I wasn't aware of your marriage. Congratulations," She turned her head, sending him an incredulous look. He blinked, then looked down quickly, seeming to collect himself. "M-Miss Redfox," she gave a curt nod, returning her eyes to the window. "Ah, Miss Redfox, please, we only need your assistance in this trivial, trivial matter and then you're free to be on your way. We fully intend on compensating you for your services, I assure you."

But silence was his answer and he heaved out a heavy sigh, rising from his seat and stalking towards the door.

She stumbled, smacking hard into the wall and holding onto it as she leaned against it, trying to stay upright. She felt the warmth trickle down the side of her head, kept hazel eyes down, staring at the floor, lips pressed firmly shut.

"If you'd just do yer job," the man sneered, head tilted sharply to the side as he glared at her, "We wouldn't hafta hit ya!"

She refused, fingers curling against the plaster, hopefully leaving marks.

"Lady, I ain't gonna be nice about it if ya don't start workin'!" She set her jaw, refusing to look at him. "Just read the damn book! Translate it and you can be on yer merry fuckin' way!"

"Now, let's not get too violent with the young lady," the butler tutted. The same man who'd been trying nicely to convince her the past week was replaced with the leader of the Dark Guild after the owner of the house was starting to get annoyed with the lack of results.

Nine days.

She was supposed to be home five days ago. No doubt her boys were starting to get worried, but Gajeel would keep them in line for another three—then he himself would begin to get aggressive. The Guild hardly needed that, but they understood a Dragon Slayer's nature was a bit different when compared to, say, Alzak.

More animalistic. More aggressive. More dangerous.

But they wouldn't reach that point, not for another three days after the first stirrings of something possibly being wrong. She gave it another week before he started tracking a trail that was already cold. Then (and only then) would he enlist Natsu, the Slayer with the best nose out of them.

She wonders, though, if Natsu would be able to track her, given almost three weeks would have passed.

"You listenin' ta me?!" She gasped, fingers clawing at the hand around her throat as she was lifted easily up against the wall, blood streaking against the beige. The butler nearly keened at the sight, no doubt more concerned about the mess than her windpipe being crushed. "Get with it, Lady! I don't got all day, ya hear me?!"

"N-not—not like you'd get—fa-a-ar!" she spat out. His face, too close for her liking, was scrunched up in disgust, before he tossed her aside, petite body nearly sailing across the room to crumble against the carpet. Her fingers trembled as she raised them to her throat, poking around the tender skin—no doubt there'd be bruises. Perfect. Just what she needed.

"Listen here, Shirmp—" she glowered up at him, the name not one to be spoken from his lips, "—Oi, don't you go lookin' at me like that!" A sharp kick to her ribs sent her back a foot and curling in on herself, gasping out. "I don't got no problem with hurtin' ya, ya understand? I could do this all day!" he crouched down, leaning over her and grabbing a fistful of cerulean hair, tugging her head up, the angle odd and painful. Tears pricked at her eyes as she glared up at him through narrow slits. He looked down at her for a moment, face blank of all expression, just watching."Yer such a tiny thing. How're you even strong enough to be a mage?"

"She's a letter mage, Levy McGarden—" she shot the butler a dark look "from Fairy Tail. One of the most renowned with languages. Part of Team Shadowgear."

"Ah, s'at explains it. Part of a team. Weakest one then. Eh, Fairy?"

"I'm the leader," Levy hissed as his hand tightened in her hair. She remembered another who thought her the weakest link—but by Gods, she showed him later with her work with runes. She remembered that look on his face, as he finally saw her.

"S'at right? Well then. Best do yer job then, eh, Fairy?" She took in a breath, nose scrunching as he pulled her a little closer, grinning at her, his eyes dark and wild.

She spit right in his face.

Her screams echoed for hours in the house, sobs forcing their way through her broken lips as blood pooled in the light carpet beneath her.

The staff continued on with their duties, closing their eyes when they passed by the door where it was the loudest, closing their ears to her pleas, ignoring his maniacal laughter as he inflicted more pain on the magic-less mage.

Gajeel stiffened up, back ramrod straight, head turning, eyes darting around as he took in the forest. Natsu, the ever faithful tracker that he was, stiffened as well, lips curling up and revealing sharp canines.

Blood.

Gajeel bolted, bursting through the forest, running until he shot out of the darkened cover, ignoring the elegant manor suspiciously smack in the middle of the forest, coming to a halt when he heard short gasps on the breeze, stuttered and weak. Natsu skidded to a stop beside him, partially hunched over as their eyes glowed.

"LEVY!"

A grin pulled at her chapped lips. She huffed, one eye nearly shut from swelling, the other bruised and bloodshot. The dark master scowled out the window, zeroing in on something beyond the glass. "I-I… I toold you…"

"Shut up!" She swayed, landing hard on the ground, coughing out blood, breathing labored. "I'm not done with you yet, Fairy! You ain't leaving 'til we get what we want!" He stomped hard on her leg and she keened, hearing the telltale snap of bone.

"I—I'm a mage!" she sobbed, broken and fractured ribs, some already in the process of healing, restricting her words. "Of Fairy Tail!"

"Shut up! Shut up, you bitch!" His hands closed around her neck once more, weeks of this becoming a pattern, the dark bruises a testament to his rage.

26 days. Almost an entire month.

What little weight she had dropped drastically, form weak, ribs prominent. She'd been given only the minimum to keep her alive in this prison. Just enough to keep her conscious—enough so they could continue to beat her down until she finally cracked.

"Fuckin' Fairy Tail!" He slammed her hard against the window, the glass cold beneath her, sight swimming as her head cracked against it. Spider webs inched around her, the glass beginning to give. "Damn it all! This was supposa ta be easy! You were supposa ta be weak!" He pulled her back, small fingers trembling weakly on his hands, her breaths near nonexistent. Dark eyes stared into her own hazy ones, rage swimming in his depths. "I should just kill ya, yeah?" She took in another stuttered breath, feet inches off the ground. "That yer boyfriend? Bet it'd just kill him, yeah?" She squeezed her eyes shut. "Cut ya open, let ya bleed out?" Her fingernails scraped against his skin weakly. "But yer a pretty thing, when yer not all bruised up. Tiny. Betcha make the most interesting sou—"

He wasn't expecting her headbutt.

But she wasn't expecting him to slam her against the window again, the spider cracks spiraling out as the glass shattered and he let go, grin manic.